Every little thing she does is magic...

It makes me sad that people define themselves by the name they are given. I am not talking about their birth names but rather throughout ones lifetime they become a sister, a brother, a mother, a dad, a wife, a husband, a friend, a girlfriend or a boyfriend. And in that time they define themselves by that name.

When you define yourself by that name you give up the other parts of you that make you more than just that. And if you’re someone who finds their only comfort in that name, I hope you find the parts of you that were there before you became that, because every little piece of you is better than just a part.

I Made You Another Mixed CD

I’m scared of what it means if to be unimportant. I convince myself that I’m at least important in someone’s eyes but at the same time I don’t feel worthy of that sort of standing. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now and even more so recently. I think about what it means for me to be alive and in people’s lives and I know everyone matters, but sometimes it’s hard not to wonder what that even means. Would the fact that I spend hours thinking about him even matter if I stopped? Would the world stop? Of course not, it would keep moving. So the reality is, we may be important but in the grand spectrum of the world we’re all just hiccups. I know that sounds dark, but it’s a reality I think about almost every day.

I am so afraid to lose the people I pull into my life that I try everything I can to make sure that they know how important they are to me. I clutch them protectively. They are mine and I don’t want to share because maybe if I shared, they’d find something else, someone better. I am possessive of those I pull close to me because I need them, probably more than they need me. And that’s a hard rationalization. Needy people are often looked at as weak, and I gather that because I need these people, I am weak. But the truth is, because I need them I think I am strong. So I cling.

I feel like I am in a bit of a limbo between something amazing that might never be and nothing at the same time. I’m trying to just have fun, but then you have to go back to the fact that I am possessive of the people I keep near. And it’s a hard pill to swallow to think that maybe I’m an afterthought, something to pass the time when there isn’t anything else in front of them. For someone who claims confidence, I sure am insecure about how people perceive me. I don’t want to doubt myself anymore.
I don’t want to go through this process in which I push and pull. This need to shove everyone out of my life and have nothing, but then the need to pull them all back in when it gets too dark. I am a conflicted person because I feel like the outside of me shows sunshine and smiles, but the inside of me is a maze of confusion, darkness and sharp words.

The dark side doesn’t have the cookies they promised. And I am pissed.

It's Time: I'm never changing who I am

I have a love/hate relationship with nights.

Sometimes in the darkness I fall, I tumble into this pit I’ve been into before. It’s the same one I’ve always fallen into and I begin to fill with an incredible sense of self-doubt. I spend hours poring over every mistake and I think of where I went wrong. Like maybe if I was hugged enough I wouldn’t feel the icy blades of rejection. Maybe if I had been stronger, I wouldn’t run from the ones that care. Life is distressing for everyone isn’t it? We all fall; no one comes out of life unscathed.
And that’s hard to remember when you’re in that pit. It’s hard to remember the things that have made you who you are; it’s hard to remember that we’re all living this life at different paces. We want to fit our pieces together with everyone else’s and match up, but we’re not built like that.

This time last summer, I was hollowed out and feeling the weight of failure, and the hole I crawled into I’ve only been in one other time in my life. But I picked myself up and I could feel the changes as they happened. I felt my mood shift and this weight I’ve carried began to shift. But it shifted because I became stronger.

And sometimes in the darkness, I drive with the windows down and I let thoughts swim around in my head, I fight the anger, the bitter, and the sadness with the realities. And you know all this reflection is probably based off the impending birthday that always makes me think, “Well fuck, I’m XX years old and what do I have?” This year I want to look at it differently. This year, I have a lot. This year I’ll fill my pit with the parts of me that are good. Because I control my life now, I need to recognize that my past is only the building blocks that built who I am. My happiness is not dependent on anyone else. My past doesn’t dictate who I will be, it’s just my story… start to finish.

So what do I have? I have an amazing sense of adventure, a gypsy heart that looks at the world still with wonder and amazement. So, maybe I get bored and want to run… but only because I want to feel the rush of something new. I’m closer now to a degree than I have ever been. Yes, I have been in school for far too long and I can make excuses, tell you it’s because I changed majors multiple times, but it’s also because I failed classes that I didn’t put whole efforts into, so I’ve spent so many wasted hours retaking them. But, I’ll get that degree and I’ll be successful. I have supportive family; people who care about me. And I have Aunt who’s sacrificed her privacy and made me her unofficial daughter. And I only now see that she’s given me the love I always thought I lacked. I have amazing friends that without falter have followed me down all paths of my life and rooted for me and made me feel wanted, and missed. Because the burning question for me has always been “would anyone miss me when I’m gone.” I know now that they would. I’ve learned acceptance. I’ve learned compassion. I wake up in a warm home in a beautiful neighborhood where I feel safe. I don’t go hungry (unless self-inflicted.) I have fallen in love and I’ve had my heart broken and each time it’s made me learn a little bit more about myself. I am living and that is the most important part. I refuse to let life pass me by, because I want to experience it all.

Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?

Last night while driving the 9.5 hours from New Jersey to Michigan I finally grasped what the authors where talking about when they talked about the south and hot and sticky nights. I drove with my window down most of the time because it keeps me alert and I like the feel of the wind on my face. But damn, afterwards I could feel the humidity clinging to my skin as I rolled up the window. And I knew what it meant to lay awake at night because the air was so sticky and hot it made even breathing unpleasant.

This thought led me to think about how certain writers have this way of capturing you with things they say. For the internet people, John Green resonates with his quotable lines and wording. And I think about how sometimes, when I’m alone and there’s a breeze or a certain smell something stands out to me it can take me back to something someone has written and I love tha. There’s an opening to a book which I absolutely adore, White Oleander by Janet Fitch. It haunts me at moments like this when I’m driving and my mind finds the connection.

“The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert, shriveling the last of the spring grass into whiskers of pale straw. Only the oleanders thrived, their delicate poisonous blooms, their dagger green leaves. We couldn't sleep in the hot dry nights, my mother and I. I woke up at midnight to find her bed empty. I climbed to the roof and easily spotted her blonde hair like a white flame in the light of the three-quarter moon.”

The opening lines of this book beg you to feel them. And as a writer that is our goal. We want you to feel the emotions behind the words. Because what are words if they aren’t felt?

Things I Learned on Tumblr Or Why People are Angry on the Internet: A study.... kinda. Not really.

I did a stint on this website called Tumblr and by doing that I learned a few things other than I am 12 kinds of vain and I love attention. Wait, I already knew that.

One of the first things I learned (or cemented) is that people on the Internet are angry. About everything. I mean everything. I lived in my own little world filled with my own anxieties, fears and anger triggers. Little did I know, people are angry about not learning how to buy a house in school, balance check book, grocery shop and other remedial things that I thought parents were supposed to do? I mean I learned how to balance checkbook in middle school. Did I ever do it? Clearly my past is proof that I disregarded said knowledge. Did you know that just because you have checks, doesn’t mean you have money? Really, lets be honest who even uses checks anymore? No, seriously, checks do not equal money. Lesson learned.

What was I talking about? Oh right, angry people on the Internet. Right, so I also realized that people like to bitch, myself included. It’s a bit of catharsis to just really have a rant-a-thon and get your shit out there… and then someone will come along and think “FUCK YEAH! THAT IS SOME BULLSHIT” and they’ll probably use all caps too. And if you’re smart, you wont share your tumblr with family or friends because that’s how you REALLY let yourself be free of whatever public persona or face you have to put on. Also did anyone know there was such thing as White Privilege? I didn’t. Tumblr introduced me to that and the word Pansexual. Who knew? But more on the idea of “privilege” later.

I also learned that there is a lot more porn than I ever thought could imagine and browsing Tumblr in public was like a ticking time bomb because I never knew what one of my followers would have posted. Even at 1 in the afternoon when people are presumably working.

That being said, one of the things I learned is that there is an entire community of women like me. And when I say like me, I mean fat. I mean fat with a slight hint of vanity (by slight I mean extreme, that is.) There is also a community of people who are way too into fat, chubby, obese girls that it’s more of a fetish… But thinking about that kind of makes me vomit because it’s an objectification of the female body that happens to be in a larger form.

Additionally, I have realized that as a society we shame ourselves and more importantly our youth into thinking that being fat is literally the worse thing you could be. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard “I don’t want to get fat” or the negative use of the phrase that even I use of “being a fat kid.” Or “My fat kid is showing.”

This is not to say that I am glorifying obesity (FYI I really hate that word, its so harsh and demeaning) by any stretch of the imagination. What I’m really trying to say is, is it really the worse thing a person can be? I guess the reality is, I’ve spent my whole life being shamed for being my weight, and you know, I should lose weight, I am unhealthy by BMI standards, but do we really need to shame people for these things? Especially so harshly and early on?

Do any of us even realize the implications of this derogatory discrimination? Let me paint two pictures for you.

Picture 1:

You’re with a group of friends and one of them, we’ll call her Paula, says “Look at that Nigger over there,” as they point to a black person crossing the road. For the most part, we are raised to believe that racism is wrong, and it is wrong. The use of that word is considered insulting and derogatory. And we are taught that it is an unacceptable word to use. And not really considered socially acceptable. That is basic knowledge.

Picture 2:

Some teenage girls are in a dressing room, super excited about prom because Oh My Gosh, Josh asked Becky to go and she just has to find the right dress. I know right? You’re excited too, I can tell. So, cue to Becky, of normal stature (maybe a size 8) trying on a beautiful dress. “Does this make me look fat?” She asks her girls.

And I will stop right there because this can go one of two ways, they say yes, or they say no. But the point is, the negative connotation that is put on the idea of being fat. Do you really try something on and think “Well gosh, does this make me look too black?” I mean, I’ve never really thought that. And I’ll be honest, I am fat, and when I try things on, it does make me look fat…. Because I am. But Becky is looking for reinforcement that she’s not a complete toad. Because fat equals ugly, dirty, gross, disgusting and any other negative connotation.

It’s the same way that at my High School prom, we were in a parking lot after dinner waiting to get into the limo and a car of boys drove by and shouted at me “Holy shit, I didn’t know they made dresses for Whales.” And then everyone in that car laughed. It’s okay to poke fun at fat people. Well no, it’s not okay, but it’s socially accepted a lot more socially accepted than if someone were to yell a racial slur to someone.

Because again, racial issues are wrong and it’s not okay to discriminate based on age, race, sex, and disability. Except, you can totally be discriminated against if you’re fat. I’ve experienced it on numerous occasions and it’s not right. Because I would rather my child, my friend, or my family member be fat than to feel shame for what they look like and who they are. I would rather them be fat the getting caught up in an eating disorder that destroys their body from the inside out. And that brings me to another term I learned...Thin Privilege.

Thin privilege is knowing that when you go into a restaurant you can be seated anywhere because you don’t have to worry if you’re going to fit comfortably, because you just do.

Thin privilege is flying on a plane and not having to worry about being being bumped from the flight because the standards in which people are sardine'd into fit doesn’t equate that your ass might take up more space and because of this, they reserve the right to make room for another paying customer, because skinny money is better than fat money.

Thin privilege is being able to enter almost any store and find something to wear that isn’t an accessory and not having to pay outrageous amounts of money for it, if you don’t want to. It’s also not being shoved into a muumuu because that’s what makes the public less uncomfortable when they see you.

Thin privilege is not having to get to class 20-30 minutes early for fear that the seat you can fit in will be a massively large wooden desk at the front of all the other desks drawing more attention to yourself than you already intended. It’s the idea that if you get there earlier, you can situate yourself in the back not because you want to avoid being called on or caught texting, but so that no one else will notice how your fat seems protrude over the desk. Or how uncomfortable you are.

Thin privilege is not being judged by other people when you go out with someone who is considered more attractive than you. Because anyone in their right mind would never date a mammoth, now would they?

And on that note, thin privilege is not being compared to an animal of gigantic proportion on a daily basis.

Because no, I’m not pregnant, I’m just fat, kid and despite what your ass hole parent says, I like me, and its okay to make eye contact and say hello. Because, no, I am not going to sit on you or eat you, the thought never crosses my mind. Ever.

I’d like anyone I cared for to be comfortable enough in their own skin that they didn’t feel shame because they were over weight. Or fuck, even underweight. And one of the best compliments I have ever received was “your vanity is rubbing off on me.” Because everyone should feel good about themselves no matter WHAT they look like. And no one should have to starve himself or herself because no, skinny does not taste better than food, and if it does, eat some better food and educate yourself on what delectable things there are out there for you to try. Like a cupcake.

We need to realize that being fat does not equate you to being unhealthy or gross. And you cannot tell if a person who is fat is unhealthy just by looking at them. The end. Being fat doesn’t tell you if a person is a homicidal maniac. You don’t know what they eat, how often they get exercise, whether or not they like blue or pink more. What you can tell is, they have more fat cells.

I cannot stress this enough, being fat is definitely not the worse thing you could be.

Burning midnight oil... and feelings.

I have to remind myself constantly. Don’t think. Don’t stop even for a moment to realize where you are. Don’t think. Ever.

It seems ridiculous that as a writer, a student and a teacher I would even say those words, but I say them, and I live by them. Do not think. For thinking gets me in trouble. Thinking drops my mood. Thinking makes me angry and sad and on the verge of tears. It’s quite silly that my brain even allows these things to happen. Even though I know the countless arguments against what torments me, I can’t think.

Tonight I got caught in my own loneliness. I realize that it’s been a year since I’ve really fallen asleep with a guy and I realized that I’m tired of that. I can’t really change it, can’t force someone to want to be with me, but it doesn’t help that when I fall into my own traps, I start finding all of my flaws. I pick out these reasons that a guy wouldn’t want me, they’re all stupid of course. But they’re all real reasons. Arguments against my fat are usually at the top of the list. It’s hard to be comfortable with your own self, that being comfortable with those with you. People don’t need more reasons for people to stare do they?

It’s not just that, I find that my neediness and ability to go from high to low rather quickly is such a turn off for others. I realize this and instantly try to hide this from those I encounter. The longer I can ward it off, the more they can get to know the un-crazy side of me, then maybe when I do dip, they’ll already be drawn in.

Maybe it’s that I require so much attention? Who has that kind of time?

I don’t really know what it is that keeps me lonely, but here I am.

I just have to remember: Don’t think.

I want you to stay...

It’s my last day in Arizona and I have to say the feeling is all so bittersweet. I spent the entire summer here last year and I couldn’t wait to leave. This had nothing to do with the place itself but rather the occurrences in my life at the time. This time was good. Despite several setbacks, I met some amazing new people that I can’t help but want in my everyday life.

I met Jeremy first and while I only spent a few bits of time with him, he has this light about him that pulls you in. His wit and intelligence are on par and his attitude resembles that of Captain Jack Harkness (For you Doctor Who fans.) I enjoyed the adventures, the conversations and the inside jokes we created… He also showed me how to work my camera a bit better, so that’s always a win.

There was Elvin and I can only describe him as the nicest ass hole you’ll ever meet. After months of daily conversations (sometimes 4-5 hours a day) we got to actually hang out in person. And he was every bit as funny as I expected. His wit, his intelligence, humor and lets be honest, his good looks were all of what I had expected. I feel like I could spend hours with this guy and never once get bored. Even if he rambled about rap or Wrestling…. He’s got a good heart and he is part of the reason I am having a hard time going back. (Where were you last summer?)

But mostly, there’s my family and all the friends who have been there. I miss them. I miss sitting at one another’s houses or running to a pool to avoid the overly hot sun. I miss being there to see their children grow and not just on facebook.

My youngest nephew almost brought me to tears tonight…

Josh: Did you use to live here?

Me: I did, 5 years ago I lived here.

Josh: Why did you leave?

Me: I needed to get out, I don’t like it here

Josh: I wish you would move back.

Me: Why’s that?

Josh: Cause I like those friends of yours (Refering to my friend Ashley and her sister Taylor) (good moment gone!)

Me: Oh, only for them? You like them better than me?

Josh: No, I like you more than them… but Taylor was fun. Will you ever move back?

Me: I don't know.

I got to see Jeremiah in his earlier years, and now I feel like I’m missing out on Joshes life. At least this time he remembers who I am. I miss my sense of family, and I’ve spent so many years running away from everything that it truly makes you realize how alone I feel now that I’ve gone away. But, everyone has to do things on their own terms right?

Last summer I broke bonds and severed ties…. This summer I mended some of those bonds and I feel so much better now. I’m happy with my life, I just wish the people I adored so much didn’t live so far away. I miss them. And now I have more people to miss.

Life is funny sometimes.

Mad World: Mother's Day Edition

If you ever hear me talking about my mother its usually in jest or reference to the childhood she provided me with. It’s never really to say, “Gosh, my mom is the great.” In fact, I haven’t talked to my mom in over a year. I don’t regret it. And frankly, my life is better for not having her in it. For a lot of people that’s a hard fact to swallow. They protest my ill feelings towards her. “But she gave you your life.” Yeah, she gave me life. Neat. That doesn’t make her a saint. She made a stupid decision and I was the result of that. It doesn’t make the accident a tragedy, but it doesn’t even give her points in my book. That being said, not all of my memories of her are horrific.

The women who gave birth to me was named Therese, her friends called her Theresa or T and I look a lot like her. I share many characteristics with her. We’re both smart but miss guided. We both use humor to hide our faults. And when I was younger after all my siblings had gone off to school she would make me “Pop-it” eggs and toast. And I loved those moments when we’d sit in the cabin kitchen, her nursing a hangover or coming down from some drug… And then there was me, lost in the world I lived in inside my head using toast to pop the yoke of the over medium eggs she made me. I cling to this memory the most because it’s one that makes me smile. It was one of the only times in my life I felt like I wasn’t lost in a sea of everyone else.

I know that Therese always talked so highly of me. She told people I was smart. She marveled in my ability to create and write. She loved me the best she could. Unfortunately that wasn’t enough. Ultimately, she chose herself over the lives of her children and we suffered for it. There are many times when I find myself caught in the emotions and I crave the relationship I see my friends have with their mothers. I’ve shed more tears than I can count mourning the loss of that relationship that never was and never will be. And it’s probably the hardest thing for me to let go of because even though my brain can acknowledge the poison that she brings, I desperately reach for her love. And each time I am met with a sting of rejection. But it’s Mother’s Day… so, thanks for giving me life, Therese.

However, the real hero’s in my life on Mother’s Day are the people who stepped in when she walked out. The real stars are my grandmother, Jean; my aunt, Kathleen; my godmother, Peggy; my brother Dan and Ashley’s mother, Michelle. They are the ones who deserve a medal for raising me in her absence.

Run from Safety...

While talking to a friend earlier he kind of said something that planted a seed inside of my mind. We were talking about quotes and our favorites. I have 2 separate quotes that have been something in my mind for a while now. They’re both ways I like to live my life.

The first one is from a book by Alice Sebold.

"No one can pull anyone back from anywhere. You save yourself or you remain unsaved."

I use this as a way of living not to say that you can’t trust anyone but at the end of the day you have yourself and only yourself, being self sufficient in that you don’t expect others to fix your issues. Other’s may aide, but in the end only you can make the changes necessary.

The second is from a book called Running from Safety.

"You find what you love and you learn everything about it. You bet your life on what you know and you run from safety"

The idea is that you take risks, and run from safety. So of course he throws me off and makes a statement/question. “You say you live your life avoiding complacent in everything else but you found that it was okay for you to have that in your relationships?”

It sort of floored me. Because I do live my life as if nothing can touch me. I run from safety every time. And yet in the past I have found myself in these toxic and complacent relationships and because of what? Because staying was easier than starting over, staying was easier than admitting defeat. Staying meant I wasn’t alone. Granted, I’ve since become comforted in the idea of being by myself and even more comfortable in who I am, the reality is I accepted that I didn’t deserve more and allowed myself to be in this “Safety Zone.”

I don’t know, something about the question really stung. The truth is a bitch.

I’m giving you a chance, so take it

Trust is a funny thing. For some people it’s easy to give away. For some people it’s hard to give. But its always easy to lose. One slight bump and it’s gone. And gaining it back never is as easy as making friends in grade school. It’s not as if “I like your crayons” will seal the bond again. It takes a buildup of events and a conscious decision to make amends. Even then, it’s always that piece of china that was shattered and then pieced together, the strength weakened.

Gaining my trust can be both easy and hard. Easy if you find a way to weasel your way into my heart, but hard if you’ve just taken the normal route. I build these walls to protect me, because I’ve had bonds of trust broken repeatedly by the people who are supposed to nurture you and love you unconditionally. My teacup has been broken time and time again so for me to hold my cup out and allow you to fill it, it’s something amazing and completely frightening all at once. Because I love too hard and forgive too easy, I shatter rather quickly as well.

I'm relying on my best memories

Life is strange and constantly surprising me. When I feel like I’m most invisible someone always seems to see me. When I’m trying to keep a low profile, someone seems to see me. You forget what it’s like to laugh sometimes, and how it feels to smile. And then you forget what it’s like to look forward to things and want more because you’re too busy trying to be invisible or keep a low profile.

When do we figure out that life is about being heard and seen? When do we stop trying to hide and embrace what life has to offer us? It’s hard to change that thought pattern of existing and just getting through each day. But life puts things in our way to make us see something. Make us learn and adapt.

What’s the lesson here I wonder?

It's a foot in your face or its looking like rain...

It’s true that you never truly understand loneliness until the night seems to creep in. Lately I’ve been feeling pretty detached form society. Again, I find comfort in the warmth, darkness and solitary feeling of my room.

I have a lot of speculations on why I’ve been feeling them, most of them just seem to be the same regular demons that manage to creep their way into my mind. But I’ve noted that I’ve become accustom to certain people being around, being a constant that when they’re no longer a constant I start to feel detached. And then the demons really crawl in. As a pretty self-sufficient lady, it kills me to feel this type of dependency on another person, but then you grow used to them being there.

“Get used to a feeling, used to a friend, start taking for granted the sight and the scent. One day it’s over alone in your skin, how do you begin again?” – Ryanhood (Used To)

It’s always hard for me to make connections with people because I’m so guarded that it’s definitely a process to get past, and the rejection I feel once I do let those guard down and am easily dismissed seems to mess with me more than I care to admit. I suppose that’s the reality, people come and go there isn’t always a constant. We all want a constant though, don’t we?

“There's a look in your eye like you can't even cry, so you sigh.” – Ryanhood (Used To)

Don't pay no mind to the demons, they fill you with fear

In an act of my teenage angst still boiling within my veins I dyed parts of my hair red and headed off to New York City/New Jersey for a bit of an escape from my real life. My real life which is boring and every day lends itself to the same thing. Wake up, class or work, eat, rinse repeat. I have to argue is this all there is to life? Is it just these mundane appointments to be kept? I can’t seem to fit into this life happily. I don’t like the continuous monotony of my life. I never have. I want adventure constantly, if I’m not going 180 mph I feel as though I am at a standstill.

My trip was amazing and full of old and new friends. It was relaxing but I also felt needed and wanted. New Jersey is a place where I feel home. Amongst millions of people (who are probably judging me,) I feel home. Maybe it’s because I have friends there or maybe it’s because I can find peace in the quite glowing lights of the New York City skyline. I feel the rush of endorphins pumping through me and everything goes at the pace I like to keep. So why did I leave it? I left it because I couldn’t afford the addiction, the rush. I couldn’t afford the lifestyle if I wanted the education, but I miss every moment away. And then I am home and I come to a standstill.

When I’m at a standstill I seem to sink. I start this process in which I regret everything and anything. Then I start to feel like I’m getting nowhere. I feel like all my efforts are for nothing and I find myself wanting to give up.

And then the sleep comes. It pains me to get out of bed and I’ll spend days wrapped in the silence of my room. It is better to feel the warmth of the covers encasing me and protecting me from the realities of life. Realities that say I’m not progressing but regressing. It’s a terrible place to be when you know that this moment will pass but you can’t do anything to will it forward. Depression is an ugly thing that only sucks me down.

I’m working hard to be happier and I am arguably happier. There are a lot of positives in my life and I keep pressing forward, but sometimes, the monsters inside your head seep in and you don’t get a choice. There isn’t anything anyone can do to help push me through these phases either, they just hit me and I sink. I forget my responsibilities, I hide. Life doesn’t allow these moments. You can’t break down and avoid life. You can’t forgo those responsibilities. The classes, the homework and midterms, they’re still there. Your responsibilities knock impatiently at your door demanding to be complete.

Nevertheless it’s so easy to turn the lights off and shut the door. The anxiety leaves me as I drift off into dreamless sleep. And the monsters are at bay if only for an instant.

“Settle down, it'll all be clear don't pay no mind to the demons they fill you with fear. The trouble it might drag you down if you get lost, you can always be found…”

Carnal Instincts

Carnal Instincts

I want to sketch you into my memory
my fingers electric on your skin.
I want to taste the salty softness
Of the curve of your hips.
And stain each thought with the imprint
Of your nails down my back. -JC

Love Scene

Love Scene

Our love is not a love of intrigue and sport
It’s a painters brush on canvas
fluent in the curves of each others' lips.
And our love is not so demanding
But effortless and pure
A temperate silence of the first winter snow.

-JC

I'm coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine

I saw the above statue at The Art Institute of Chicago and I decided that I would look into it more because the name plaque caught me and how I felt I needed to look at life. The bottom is something I found in passing, but felt it would be best posted with the above photo taken by me.

This elephant represents "The Remover of Obstacles" and I think that is something I generally fight with. The letdown I feel with all of the obstacles life as put in front of me. I get angry because I feel like I’m getting more than my share of obstacles and challenges. Why me? I constantly wonder. And that is a selfish way to think. Everyone has their road to travel, their obstacles to overcome, and the difficulty of overcoming said hurdles relies entirely upon the person. One person’s casual leap could be another person’s tumble.

This year, I resolve to think big, talk less (or more in places I don’t talk enough.) I resolve to listen more, concentrate on what I need and don’t need. Rebuild the relationships I burned and learn to decipher the good from the bad better.